Sleepy Fox Hollow but a part of me knows I'm growing too old

The Paleo she-wolf remained sharp—the irritation she held clear upon her in her posture, and the frostiness of her clipped tone as she took the offering Sialuk had graciously given. It rankled him—but he withheld—smoothing a stoical mask upon his facade—so ingrained upon him from his youthful days and into early adulthood, he felt a keen sense of surreality. Before, the posturing and unkindness of Mahler’s companion had been something he expected and assumed—Sialuk and Moonspear had introduced him to a different view on life.

And he found with rising clarity that he much preferred it.

Prior, only moments before, the silver guardian had desired nothing more than the wisdom the man before him could impart. Fatherly advice on the options that weighed heavy on the Sandraudiga’s mind—but he now found himself unwilling to leave Sialuk alone in the presence of the border viper—and he hesitated.

Mahler’s response was quick to include the she-wolf in regards to his own wellness—a clear tie between them, and idly, he wondered how the patient Mahler had come to meet her.

“Paleo,” he tasted the word on his tongue, pale eyes drifting from the man to look upon the woman who stared him down—peaceful, indeed. He turned his gaze back to Mahler, intending their visit to be cut much shorter than he had originally anticipated. “I’m glad you found your peace Mahler… I just wanted to see how you were doing. The mountains are still home to you, I see.” And, only for the sake of the man who had practically raised him, he turned to Wylla once more, attempting to remain neutral at her stiff presentation. “And you are his mate? It’s nice to meet you. Mahler was an important figure in my youth...”